


A New Hope

by dionvsia



Series: Fullmetal: A Star Wars Story [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dionvsia/pseuds/dionvsia
Summary: A Jedi Knight, a prince, his guard, a cocky pilot, a boy from tatooine, and the droid that started it all.What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Families Lost

**Author's Note:**

> foreword: if anybody here is reading FireWatching, I apologize for not updating that fic for a few weeks - this idea has completely consumed my attention!  
> This fic already has some amazing [fanart](http://snail-hotel.tumblr.com/post/170178682766/mfriend-pancakelesbian-wrote-a-really-cool-fmasw)  
> drawn by my awesome friend E!!!!!  
> hope you guys enjoy the fic!!!

Edward’s eyes are closed as he stands at the edge of the hill, breathing in the musty air and letting the breeze blow through his clothes. He thinks about Winry, mostly, how she’s gone off without him again. She’d packed her things and taken the next shuttle off world, telling him how she’d see him soon enough. 

It had felt like a lie - her eyes had been sadder than her face let on. 

She was going to join the rebel alliance, if anything he would never see her again. But still, that’s all he wanted to do - follow her, join the rebels, make some kind of change. He was here, though. All he would ever be is here, stuck at home with Pinako being a  _ farmer _ . 

“Next year,” She would tell him, “Once we can afford more help.” 

She’d been saying it for the past three years, she’d say it for three more. 

He opens his eyes and watches the twin sunset, feeling the heat of the day taper off into the desert cold of nighttime. The only thing he could think of was just running away. Taking whatever life savings he had left and buying a ticket without telling anybody. 

That wouldn’t work, he could never abandon Pinako. She’d raised him here, even when she didn’t have to. She gave him everything. It wasn’t her fault his mother had died, or that his father had abandoned him. Ed had to stay, at least out of gratitude. 

He sighed, turning around to go back down into the house. One more year wouldn’t be too bad. He’d just work extra hard this year, prove that he was serious about leaving. That's what Winry had done - worked extra jobs until through the night and helped around the farm in the mornings, sleeping in the afternoons and on her days off. 

It wouldn’t be  _ that _ bad. 

That was another lie he could try and pretend was real.

 

“Granny, why don't we take this one instead?” Ed calls, leaning back on his haunches to take a better look at the small droid in front of him. 

It was much better made than the other one, despite some of the surface damage that looked fairly recent - that wouldn't be difficult to clean off, and anyway, they didn't need something clean, they needed something that would run the vaporizers without them. 

“Fine, take it.” Pinako called back, dealing with bartering for the single droid the needed. 

Ed smiled, turning back to the droid and patting it on the head. “Looks like you’re coming with me, little guy.” 

The droid chirped, not sounding too happy with that arrangement. 

Ed didn’t care, he was just happy they had another hand to help. They were definitely feeling Winry’s loss. 

“Well, get used to it. Now you’re gonna learn how to reprogramme the backup moisture collectors. I’m sure that’s better than your old job.” He starts walking, and is happy to find the small droid following, beeping aggressively back at him.

He walks down the small ramp leading into the garage, listening to the droid chip about how it wasn’t made for programming. 

“Is that so? Then what exactly were you made for?” 

Another beep.  _ ‘That’s classified.’ _

Ed huffed, kneeling back down beside the droid to scrub some of the carbon scoring from it. “Listen, buddy, I really don’t care what you were made for. You’re an HA-4 unit, and you’re going to programme for me so that I don’t have to.” 

The droid beeped angrily again, and Ed saw writing on the side of the droid. It was beside the model number, just a little “YATE” written after the HA so it read “HAYATE”. He laughed, thinking that it was kinda cute. 

“So you’re name’s Hayate then? Mine’s Edward.” He digs against the scoring a bit rougher, trying to get the grime out. “So, are you allowed to tell me where you’re from?” 

Something clicked under Ed’s hand and the droid lurched forwards, throwing him off balance and to the floor. 

“Hey what the fuck-”

“- _ Colonel Mustang, you’re our only hope _ .” A holovideo of a young man starts again, the figure kneeling down in front of the droid and whispering. “ _ Help me, Colonel Mustang, you’re our only hope _ .” 

The video loops, and Ed just stares. First of all, it’s weird as hell - and second of all, the man looks… familiar. He knows he’s never seen him before, he would’ve remembered someone who looked like that. Gold hair, yellow eyes, tan skin. Nobody around here looked like that, that’s for sure. 

“Who is he?” Ed asks, looking back up at Hayate, who just beeps angrily again - saying the message isn’t for Ed.  _ ‘It’s for Mustang, only him!’ _

“Well, obviously it isn’t for me!” He yells, turning back to the projection. “He just… he looks like me, a bit. If my hair was shorter….” Ed trails off, staring at the image loop. 

He brings a hand up to his hair subconsciously, playing with the end of his braid. A shiver goes up his spine as he listens to the voice.  _ “You’re our only hope.” _ Suddenly, it clicks in his head. 

“You’re an alliance droid!” He yells again, pulling himself back up onto his knees. “You’re- that’s- holy  _ shit _ .” Ed’s hands scramble around Hayate’s command board, hitting a bunch of the buttons while the droid screamed. “Play the rest of the message! I want to know what he needs help with!” 

Hayate chirps and beeps, spinning his head around and trying to push Ed off the best a droid could accomplish. 

“Please, I want to help!” He yells, thinking of Winry. “Let me help!” 

The message fades off, Hayate screeching at Ed that it isn’t any of his business. 

Ed keeps hitting the side of the droid, until he’s basically just touching the metal siding every few seconds. It takes him a few more minutes to calm down, the adrenaline fading out until he’s left tired and alone in the garage, realising he’s arguing with a droid that isn’t even his. 

  
  


+

  
  


Alphonse stood in defiance against the man in front of him, staring into dark eyes without a hint of the fear he felt in his stomach. He bit back on the way his hands started to shake, tucking them behind his back and holding them tight - he wouldn’t let anything show, not right now. After all, Al was a good liar, if nothing else. 

He wouldn't betray the rebels, that was certain. Let then torture and kill him - at this rate, he knew it was coming. They’d take him and attempt to pry every piece of knowledge he had on the alliance, and then kill him once he provided nothing. The information was with Hawkeye, and she’d never let it go. 

“I won't ask you again,” The man says, glaring down at Al, “Tell me where you've sent the plans.”

Alphonse stood his ground and smirked, grinding his teeth beneath the facade. “And I won't  _ tell _ you again, I don't know what you're talking about. This is a diplomatic ship, Hohenheim, not a smuggling scheme - I won't be treated as some kind of criminal!” 

“Mr. Curtis, the Empire is very much aware about your mother's involvement in with the Rebel Alliance.” Hohenheim frowned. “It would be unwise to act like you're innocent.” 

Alphonse held the man's gaze - hands clasped behind his back so tightly he could feel his nails drawing blood - and continued his smirk. He knew how to act, how to feign ignorance, and at this point he was too proud to do anything else. 

The rebels were going to win this, and there was nothing Hohenheim could do to stop them. 

He does worry about Hawkeye, but he knows she can handle herself just fine. She'd been the perfect one to send with the astromec - the only one who could actually withstand torture if she was caught. And anyway, she'd said that she had a friend on Tatooine. It wouldn't be an issue for her to reach Yavin. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Al laughed, “Is the Empire really that desperate that it has to interrogate teenagers?” 

“When they’re the son of an outspoken rebel sympathizer - then yes, we do interrogate teenagers.” 

Alphonse was running out of cards, and he knew it. There was only so much he could taunt the man over. He had about three more minutes before they took him away, locked him in a cell and made him wait for the torture to begin. He wasn’t going to be disillusioned over the fact that Izumi Curtis was his mother, that fact hadn’t mattered since day one. 

“Then the Empire must be truly desperate.” 

Hohenheim took a step forwards, leaning over Alphonse and glaring. “Yes, we must be. But do not mistake our desperation for weakness, Mr. Curtis.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“It’s simple,” Hohenheim smiles, a carbon copy of Al’s own facetious smirk. “We’re going to turn the galaxy into a philosopher's stone.” 

Alphonse feels his mask break, carefully held composer cracking into shards of itself under the weight of the words. A philosopher’s stone. He knew how those were made, he knew what they did. 

He feels the floor turn out from under him after a moment, the back of his head throbbing while his vision swam. Something-someone had hit him, he thinks. 

“Take him to the detention level, I want to show him something when he wakes up.” Hohenheim says, voice hollow and far away. 

Alphonse feels the universe slip away, leaving him with nothing but darkness and fear. 

 

+

 

“Do you know anybody around here named Mustang?” Ed asks later that evening, after they’d turned the floodlights off and left the farm in darkness. 

Pianko turned around in her chair and gave him a look, something between ‘get lost’ and ‘what the fuck?’ - those were her most common looks, but together told another story. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I think that HA-4 unit was stolen, it said something about finding a Colonel Mustang near here.” 

There were a few minutes of silence, before Pianko spoke again. “He’s just some old hermit who lives to the East, don’t you worry about him.” She took a  puff off her pipe. “Take that droid into town tomorrow and get its memory wiped. I paid for it, doesn’t matter who used to own it or not.” 

Ed scowled, walking closer to the older woman and cross his arms over his chest. “You’re not even a little bit curious about this?”

“No, now go do your chores and go to bed. Early morning tomorrow.” 

Just like that, the conversation was over. 

Ed wanted to scream sometimes, she was so  _ useless _ with everything except for automail and farming. She never told him anything about his parents, never mentioned if he had any other family - even Winry had mentioned that she ought to give him  _ something _ \- but no, Pianko never let on to anything about Ed’s real family. 

And for some reason, this felt like family. This felt like something he was supposed to be involved in, incidental or not. Pianko avoiding the question meant that there was something else to it. Maybe this Mustang knew about his father, where he’d gone or if he was even still alive. 

Ed would do anything for the opportunity to punch the old man for abandoning him. 

So first thing’s first - he needed to find the Colonel. 

 

+

 

Alphonse woke up to a screeching noise, followed by the dark room he’s in turning into stark white. He hissed back from the light, trying to pull an arm over his eyes but finding that his hands were shackled together and connected to the floor. Great. 

The door at the side of the cell opened after a minute, followed by Hohenheim and another man in an imperial uniform. 

“I trust you slept well,” Hohenheim greets blandly, letting the man pass him and release the chain connecting Al’s wrists to the floor - but keeping the ones attaching his hands in place. “You’ve been asleep for a full 14 hours, I would apologize for the use of force but it was actually quite convenient to have you unconscious.” 

Alphonse stands, pulling away from the imperial officer and glaring at Hohenheim. “How  _ dare _ you, my mother won’t stand for this-”    
“You’re mother isn’t going to stand for anything, soon enough.” Hohenheim turns to the officer and nods, “Bring him with me.” 

He’s led through the halls, of what obviously isn’t the star destroyer he was initially brought onto. The walls were too high, and the hall seemed to curve. Dread weighed down in his stomach, and Alphonse felt sick. He didn’t want to act anymore, he felt awful - and what the hell had Hohenheim meant? 

“Threatening the leader of a planet won’t win you any favours, Hohenheim. Tell me what you mean.” No answer. “Hey, listen to me you bastard! What the hell do you mean ‘soon enough’? Tell me what’s going on!” 

Again, no answer from Hohenheim. Instead, he gets an elbow to the gut by the officer walking beside him. “Shut up and walk.” 

Alphonse coughs, clutching his stomach and cringing. It felt like his rib was broken, and it was difficult to catch his breath and walk at the same time. This had to be bad, if they weren’t hesitating to hurt him. There must be something wrong with the imperial court, none of them would stand for this. Alderaan was a major world, the emperor’s attack dog wasn’t more influential than the prince of an entire system. 

The dread grew as they walked into the command room, more officers milling around the controls and steering the ship. Or no, not steering the ship, because they seem to be stationary. In front of what appeared to be  _ Alderaan. _

“Ah, I’m glad you’re here to join us.” Another officer says - turning to face Alphonse. 

“General Bradley, I knew you would have something to do with this,” Alphonse spits. “Tell me what’s going on, the imperial court won’t pardon you for assaulting the prince of Alderaan.” 

Bradley laughs, turning to face Hohenheim and giving the man a grin. “You haven’t told him yet?” 

“Told me what?” Al shouts, which earns him another elbow to the gut. This one drops him to his knees, which he’s thankful for because-

“That we’re going to test our new weapon on Alderaan, Mr. Curtis.” 

It takes him a moment to process what Bradley says, and when he does it still doesn’t completely register in his brain. Alphonse looks back at the planet in front of them through the view screen, feeling his entire body go numb with fear. 

“You can’t…” He trails off. “Alderaan is a neutral system, the people there are innocent!”

“We can, and we will.” Bradley says, “Unless you tell us where the rebel alliance base is, in which we will instead test our weapon there.” 

Al’s mind races, trying to figure out how much of a lie he could tell to get out of this. He knows that if they call his bluff the entire planet would be… and if he tells the truth he’d been killing thousands of rebels - people he knew, people he’d worked with for the past five years. He can’t balance them out, can’t think of it logically. He’d never been able to. To weight the lives of one group against another. Those kinds of calculations didn’t work in his mind - but his parents, could he really weight their lives against how much of a lie he could tell? Could he face Izumi again if he tells them that the rebels are on Yavin, getting all of them killed? 

It’s too much, he doesn’t know, everything’s happening too quickly and before he knows it he’s speaking, saying words without filtering them. 

“They’re on Dantooine.” He says, barely above a whisper. “The rebels are on Dantooine.”

Bradley scoffs, “What a pity.” He turns to a technician and gives him a nod.  “Prepare to fire on Alderaan, full-power.” 

“What!?” Al screams, trying to stand but struggling against the hand on his shoulder holding him down. “What do you mean!? I told you where they rebels are!” 

“Yes, and Dantooine is much too small for the kind of display I want to set,” Bradley frowns. “Too bad, I was looking forwards to wiping all of you out for our first big show. This will have to do.”

Everything starts spinning, Al feels himself slipping again but he doesn’t let go. He holds on and keeps his eyes open, looking forwards and not taking his eyes off the planet. Every single person he grew up with lives on that planet. Martel is there, his school friends are there, his  _ parents are there _ . He feels so sick, all he can do is sit on his knees in shock. 

After another few minutes, everything’s gone - Al feels himself slip away. 

  
  


+

  
  


Ed curses quietly as he climbs up the stairs into the garage, nearly tripping over a toolbox on his way down. It was nearly 3 am, way too early for any of the moisture systems to be knocking loud enough to wake him up. 

Which only meant one thing - somebody was in his goddamn garage, probably stealing shit. This is  _ exactly _ what he needs right now. Sarcasm intended. 

He holds out the blaster rifle in his right hand, sitting it against his shoulder and hovering his finger over the trigger - it was set on stun, he didn’t feel like killing anybody tonight, but he was just about to that level with his sleep interrupted like this - before flicking on the light and bringing the garage into focus. 

The first thing he notices is a blonde woman kneeling beside Hayate, the second thing he notices is that she also has a blaster in her hand, which is currently pointed at his face. 

Shit.  _ Shit. _

“Don’t move!” He yells, trying to figure out if this woman would actually shoot him or not. Judging by the state of her - clothes ripped, hair in a mess, looking like she’s been living outside for the past week - he wouldn’t put it by her. But this was  _ his _ house, goddammit. “Put your blaster down, and stand up.” 

“Or what,” She laughs, rolling her eyes and keeping her blaster up. “You’ll shoot me with your little L-72 peashooter that’s not even set to kill?” 

Ed grits his teeth and glares at her. “This is an L-75, thank you very much, and I’ll still haul your ass to the Imps if you don’t step away from my droid.” 

“He’s my droid, thanks. And I was just leaving, so don’t worry about it kid.” 

She stands up, blaster still pointed at him but eyes looking away, like she was daring him to shoot her. Ed stops for a second, her droid?

“Are you Colonel Mustang?” He asks, gun wavering in his hand. “From the message?” 

The woman looks at him again, eyes wide. “You listened to the message? It was encoded how did you-” 

“He just turned on, I don’t know. It didn’t play anything except the ending. Answer my question.” Edward dared to step further into the room, letting his blaster lower until the barrel was facing the ground. He wasn’t exactly trusting this woman, but if she was with the rebellion… 

“No, I’m not Colonel Mustang.” She says, lowering her gun as well. “I’m Riza Hawkeye, I was Alphonse Curtis’ bodyguard until two days ago.”

  
  


“So you have no idea where Mustang would be?” Riza asks, sitting down at the kitchen table with Ed. 

She looks better now than she did an hour ago, Edward had let her clean up, given her some of Winry’s spare clothes that would fit. She must be in her 40’s, maybe early 50’s, it was hard to tell, short hair still straggly and dirty from the sand. 

“No,” Ed says, “I asked my grandmother, but she got all avoidant and told me not to ask again.” 

Riza laughs, “That’s typical. If you’ve met Roy Mustang, he’s not the kind of person you’d want to brag about to your kids.” 

“Who is he, though? I mean, Obviously he has something to do with the Rebel Alliance, but who is he?” 

Riza avoids his eyes, looking down at the table while she speaks. “He’s one of those old religious freaks, y’know the ones? They used to call them Jedi when I was a kid. We fought in the Clone Wars together, he was… he was really something. Once the Empire took over, he moved out here to avoid them.” She looked back up. “He’s the only one that can help us bring these plans to Alderaan.” 

“You- I’m coming with you. At least to see Mustang.” Ed said, leaning across the table. “He might know something about my father, or my mother, or anyone. My father fought in the Clone Wars, and I saw that look in your eyes when I told you my last name.” 

Riza gives him a look, one of the looks he knows from Pinako. “Listen, Edward. You’re a kid-” 

“I’m 18 years old, don’t treat me like I’m 12.” Ed cuts her off. 

“Still, Ed. You might not like what you find out.” Her eyes are sad now, less defiant but equally cold. 

“I don’t care. Please, Riza, let me come with you. Granny Pinako might let me go if it’s for something like this.” He pleads. “I just want to do something that will make a difference.” 

Riza’s silent for a few minutes, staring down at her hands and thinking. 

Ed doesn’t know what he’ll do if she says no. Sneak off and follow her anyway? Probably not a good idea, especially this late at night. After what felt like an hour, Riza stands up from the table and moves to go to the door, turning at the last second and pausing. 

“I’m not waiting all day for you, come on.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile forming on his face. 

  
  


Colonel Roy Mustang couldn’t have lived in a more obnoxious spot, Edward decides. The sun is already up by the time they reach him, heat setting in for a long day below the suns. 

Riza knocks on the door, right hand holding her blaster and left looking like it was ready to draw another. The woman was scary, way scarier than Winry would ever be, but Ed admired her. She treated him like an adult, but wasn’t rude. If anything, Edward wanted to be more like her, more unafraid of the universe. 

“Go away!” A voice shouts, “I’m not buying anything!” 

Riza grins, before knocking again. “Sir, it’s rather important.” 

The door opens a moment later, almost too quickly for Ed to be convinced he hadn’t been right on the other side. The man standing in the doorway is… rough looking. Almost as rough as Riza had looked back in Edward’s garage. His hair was greying at the temples and too long at the back, his face was tired looking, and he was wearing the strangest pajamas Ed had ever seen

“Hawkeye?” He asked, almost in disbelief. “Is it really you?” 

“Yes sir,” She says. “I’m sorry I’m not here on better circumstances.” 

Mustang’s eyebrows furrow, before he looks over at Ed and frowns. “So you found him, huh?” 

Ed, confused about the situation, just raises an eyebrow. “Do I know you?” 

Mustang looks between the two of them, before backing away from the door. “You two better come in.” 

 

_ “Colonel Mustang, years ago you served with my mother during the Clone Wars. Now she begs you to help her with this struggle against the Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my mother’s request to you in person, but my ship had fallen under attack and I’m afraid my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed.  _

_ “I have put information vital to the survival of the Rebellion into the memory of this HA-4 unit, as well as sent my person guard with it for extra protection, and as a courtesy to my unavailability. My mother will know how to retrieve the files. You must see this droid safely delivered to her on Alderaan.  _

_ “This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Colonel Mustang, you are our only hope.”  _

 

The room falls silent once the message holovideo stops, the three of them all tense. Riza had known these things before, the other two had not. 

Roy is the first one to speak, standing from his spot and walking across the room to a cabinet. “I have something to show you, Edward.” 

The man returns after shuffling around, and Riza sighs. “Sir, is that necessary-” 

“Leave it, lieutenant. He deserves to know.” 

Edward bites the inside of his cheek to stop from saying something sarcastic. He didn’t like the tense atmosphere. 

“Here,” Roy hands him some kind of… tube? “This was your fathers.” 

“What is it?” Ed asks, looking down along the body and fingering some of the switches, before the end erupts into energy and almost throws his arm sideways from the unexpected force. “ _ Holy shit _ .” 

“It’s a lightsaber.” Riza says, “Please don’t cut off your arm, or mine. Maybe just turn it off, actually.” 

Ed laughs, looking at the blue light fizzling around the edge of the handle. 

“Do you know what happened to your parents, Edward?” Roy asks, reaching over to turn the lightsaber off when Ed didn’t. 

Ed shrunk a bit, holding the handle closer to his middle. “No, I know my mother died in childbirth, but I don’t know anything about my father. Granny wouldn’t tell me anything.” 

Roy gets back up, leaving the room this time for a few minutes. When he looks over at Riza, she isn’t looking at him, instead she’d looking at the lightsaber in his hands. It was obvious that she was in pain, and Ed wishes he could comfort her in some way. He barely knew her, but she seemed like someone he’d known for a long time.

After a few more minutes, Roy returned with a picture frame, wrapped in a piece of cloth and clutched tightly in the man's hands. “Your father died, during the last year of the war. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” 

Ed took the picture frame, hands shaking slightly - Pinako had never told him he father was dead. 

The picture was of three men, two with darker hair and another with light blonde hair, almost the same age Ed was now. He knew immediately that it was his father, he looked just like Edward did. Same long hair, same face, same eyes - the only addition were a pair of glasses and some kind of weird braid handing out of his ponytail. It was odd to look at, Ed’s chest felt too tight the longer he stared at the man, breathing becoming difficult. He refused to cry.

“He was a Jedi?” Edward asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He’d never seen a photograph of his father before, he’d never known what the man looked like. “How did he die?”

Roy didn’t look him in the eye. “He was killed in the extermination.” He said. “A student of his killed him, after defecting to the Empire.” 

“Who?” He almost thinks that Roy didn’t hear him, he said it so quietly. 

“Hohenheim.” Riza says, disgust evident in her voice. “He killed your father, and one of our friends.” 

Ed looks down at the lightsaber in his hands, trying to steady out his breathing. His chest still hurt, but more with anger than sadness. He’d spent so much of his childhood hating a man that had been murdered. Why hadn’t Pinako told him? Was it really that difficult to explain to a child that the reason their parent wasn’t there was because they were  _ dead _ ? 

“I’m coming with you to Alderaan.” He says, looking up at the two others in the room, meeting Roy’s eyes. “I want you to train me, so I can avenge my father.” 

  
  


+

  
  


The next three days for Alphonse are worse than he could have imagined. 

He’s given up, at this point. He won’t give them information, but he doesn’t fight them either. Just lays there while they interrogate him, too tired to struggle when they hurt him. His back is covered in bruises and he knows there’s dried blood in his hair - he just can’t find the energy to care. 

Everything was gone. His home was gone, his parents were gone. Al couldn’t even cry anymore. 

He keeps thinking about how disappointed Izumi would be with him - she’d risked her life for years to form the Rebel Alliance, risked her life again to organize stealing these plans. All he’d done was fail her, and now she was gone. The hope that pushed him on had evaporated along with Alderaan, now the only thing left was anguish. 

They’d kill him, soon enough. Either from a firing squad or Hohenheim - or maybe neither, maybe they didn’t care about him enough to even put out the courtesy of killing him like that, maybe they would just leave him here to starve. It’d already felt like days since anybody had opened the door to his cell. 

He’d failed his part, but he knows RIza won’t fail hers. 

Al thinks death might not be too bad. 

  
  


+

  
  


“Where the fuck are we?” Ed asks, giving Mustang a look as they walked into a seedy looking cantina in Mos Eisley. It had looked like everything else from the outside, but the inside was… obnoxious. Annoying music, dark lights. He didn’t like it. 

Edward didn’t like Mos Eisley in general - it was too big, there were too many people - it always gave him a headache, like he could  _ feel _ all the people in such a small space. 

Roy just laughed, walking closely to Hawkeye. “It’s a bar, Edward. We’re looking for a pilot.” 

“And we’re going to find a pilot in here?” 

“Where else?” 

Ed scowled, looking over at Hawkeye for some help but finding the woman scanning the room instead, hand placed over her blaster as if she was expecting some kind of fight - which wasn’t unjustified, judging by the other patrons.

He was used to the people on Tatooine, knew how to fight and when to leave well alone, but the entire place just  _ bugged _ Ed, like there was something else going on. Maybe it was his gut telling him he was suddenly alone, because when he turned around both Roy and Hawkeye were on opposite ends of the cantina, talking to various people while he stood there like an idiot. 

“Glad we’re a team…” Ed trails off, talking to himself quietly. He rolls his eyes and sits down, leaning against the bar. 

He thinks about how he left Pinako, guilt curling in his chest. It wasn’t even a proper goodbye - he’d just packed his things and left a note, not bothering to tell her where he was going.  _ ‘I’m going to save the galaxy’ _ was all the note read, in Edward’s chicken scrawl handwriting. 

It could've been worse - Ed could've just left without saying anything to the old woman. He's known a few friends who'd up and left their parents to go off on their own, it was better than the alternative. Tatooine operated in a kind of vacuum, Ed thinks, you either don't get sucked into it or you're here forever. 

Roy taps him on the shoulder after a few minutes, “I found a pilot.” 

  
  


“I’m Ling Yao, and this is Lan Fan,” The pilot says, gesturing to the girl sitting beside him. “Happy to be of service.” 

Ed glares across the table, immediately disliking the man. “Happy to be taking our money you mean.” 

Ling laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Well, that is one of the perks.” 

They’d agreed on two thousand credits right off, with fifteen when they reach Alderaan. Roy hadn’t mentioned that they didn’t exactly have that kind of money - two thousand was about as much as Edward had in his bag, he’d left the rest of it for Pinako - but Ling didn’t know that, so they’d been set. 

Ed scowled the entire way to the loading docks, trailing behind Riza and Hayate. He was hoping they’d get a decent pilot, maybe someone with an  _ actual _ ship that could take them all the way without fear of breaking down. But the Millenium Falcon seemed like the biggest trash heap in the entire city. 

“This thing looks like a piece of junk!” Ed says, throwing his arms out to the side. “I doubt we’ll even make it out of the landing docks in it.” 

“Hey!” Lan Fan yells, speaking for the first time. “It might not look like much, but this is a Corellian military ship. So unless you’d like to try your luck with another crew, deal with it!”

Ed shrunk back, eyes wide - Lan Fan was scary. She reminded him of Winry, almost. In the way she defended her work. She reminded him  _ less _ of Winry in the way that she had multiple blasters hooked on her belt and around her back, coupled with the automail arm that looked like it could tear out a piece of concrete from the ground. 

He decided he liked her. Ling, less so. 

“Let’s get moving, we’re wasting daylight.” The man says, reaching up to unlock the hatch. He walked on first, turning to face the group in the main hall. “Cockpit’s to your right, sleeping quarters are to your left and down the hall. We should be in the Alderaan system in about five hours, so you don’t have to get that cozy.” 

“Thanks,” Roy says, moving to walk to the left. 

The older man disappeared into the ship, along with Riza and Hayate, leaving Edward alone with Ling for the first time. He still had a scowl on his face, crossing his arms underneath his poncho. 

“So, you’re a smuggler, aren’t you?” Ed asks, looking up slightly at the taller man. 

“That’s right.” Ling says, “Mostly spices, sometimes people. Depends on the money.” 

“I don’t want us getting into any trouble.”

Ling pats his shoulder, laughing and ignoring the way Ed hisses back. “Don’t you worry, kid. I told you, this thing can outrun Imps like nothing. It’s Corellian made, after all.” 

“Yeah well, Corellia isn’t the most innocent planet out there.” Ed takes a step back, moving to follow Roy and Riza down the hallway. “Just get us to Alderaan in one piece, if you can manage.” 


	2. Fallen Flame

“Fuck!” Ed swore, cringing back as another blaster bolt hit him. He'd been training for over an hour with Roy, listening to the Ling laugh whenever he got hit.

The shit stung - it wasn't his fault.

“You have to focus,” Roy says. “You aren't focusing.” 

“I am focusing!” Ed yells back, turning the lightsaber off and pointing it towards Ling. “He's making it difficult to focus!” 

Ling feigns hurt, holding a hand to his chest and sighing. “Who, me? I’m just enjoying the sideshow act.” 

“It isn't an act, asshole. I'm training.” 

“For what, the olympics on Dantooine? Looks like a waste of time to me.” 

“Fuck off.” He looks at Roy and rolls his eyes, asking the man silently to do something. 

Of course, the bastard doesn’t. 

“Here,” Roy stands, taking a helmet off the wall and pulling the blast visor down. “Try doing it with this on.” 

Ed gives him another look, “But I won’t be able to see shit with the blast visor down, what good is that gonna do me?”

“You don’t always need to use your eyes, to see when something’s coming.” 

Cryptic bastard.

Ed shrugged and pulled the helmet on, ignoring Ling’s laughter and trying to focus on the training remote. It took a second for the remote to start firing, and Ed felt his palms start sweating slightly.

_ One.  _

_ Two, three.  _

_ Four.  _

He deflected them with the lightsaber, flicking his wrist around the block a fifth. 

“Hey, I did it!” Ed shouted, pulling the visor up and giving Roy a wide grin. “It was like I saw them in my head, I didn’t even need to look.”

Roy just grinned, raising his eyebrows in Ling’s direction. 

“Oh, whatever.” Ling says, standing from his seat. “So you got lucky, anyone can do that.” 

Ed shrugs. 

“You don’t believe in the force do you?” He asks, taking the helmet off his head and holding it against his stomach.

“Kid, I’ve flown from one side of this galaxy to the other, and I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe that there’s one all-powerful Force controlling everything. It’s all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense…” Ling walks off, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he goes.

Ed just frowns, shaking his head before turning back to Roy. “What else can you teach me?” 

“Well, I can teach you to flirt better, for one.” Roy smirks. 

“W-what? No, what the hell? I wasn’t- fuck you!” Ed sputters, feeling his face heat up. “He’s a dick!” 

Roy crossed his arms over his chest and put his feet up on the counter, smirking. “I think you seem pretty fond of him.” 

“I think you’re senile.” Ed glares. 

He tries not to think about it, Mustang’s just being an asshole, right? He wasn’t- there wasn’t actually anything going on, was there? Ed didn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t wanna think about Ling and his stupid hair, he just wants to get to Alderaan. 

  
  


They fell out of hyperspace after about four more hours, the ship wavering underneath them and then starting to shake violently, throwing Ed against one of the walls. 

“What the fuck was that?” He screamed, trying to right himself but being thrown over again. 

Ed feels his knee lock, before he’s falling to the floor. The joint makes a grinding sound before he rights himself again, pulling on one if the handholds along the wall. Stupid automail. Stupid Winry leaving and leaving him with only Pinako to do maintenance. 

“We came out of hyperspace into as asteroid field!” Lan Fan shouts back, throwing switches around and trying to slow them down. “It doesn’t make sense, Alderaan should be right here!” 

Ed grabbed the doorway and threw himself into the cockpit, grabbing onto the back of one of the chairs to steady himself. Roy was there too, along with Hawkeye, all shoved into the small space with Ling and Lan Fan. 

“I think…” Riza started, eyes wide. “I think this  _ is _ Alderaan.” 

Ed’s head shot around to look at her, expression similar. “What do you mean? There’s nothing here!” 

“No, the computer says we’re in the Alderaan system.” Ling says, hitting a button and swearing. “There’s a moon over there, which also isn’t supposed to be here, but the computer can’t be wrong.” 

“What does that even-” Ed starts, but Roy cuts him off. 

“I don’t think that’s a moon, Mr. Yao.” 

The four of them stare at Roy for a minute, a mixture of confusion and fear. Asteroids kept hitting the hull, throwing them around the room - Ed swears again when his hand catches a piece of metal, cutting his skin and drawing blood. 

Ed’s swearing throws Ling out of his disbelief, and the man hits another switch, which does nothing. “Shit, we’re caught in something, the thrusters aren’t working.” 

“We’re caught in what?” Ed yells, grabbing onto the back of Ling’s chair and holding himself up. “By who?” 

“They’re pulling us on board,” Riza says, looking over at Mustang and taking the blaster out of her belt. “We’re going to have to fight.” 

“WHO’S PULLING US ON BOARD?!” Ed shouts again, wanting to understand what’s going on. “I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING!” 

“That space station, dumbass!” Ling yells back, flipping switches and cursing under his breath. 

Ed keeps screaming, but no one listens to him. They’re all too focused on the enormous space station in front of them, and the lack of a planet behind it. 

It takes a few more minutes until they’re close enough to see anything in detail, but Edward can see the squadron of stormtroopers on the other side of the force field waiting for them. The presence is overwhelming, making Ed’s head hurt - he can  _ feel _ how many people are on the station, like he had back in Mos Eisley. 

This was bad. 

  
  


“This uniform itches,” Ed complained, walking down the hallway behind Ling and Riza. 

Ling turned his head back, “Stop bitching.”

Ed just sighed, trying to get a better grip on the blaster rifle he was holding. It was so stupid, he didn’t like the idea of taking the stormtrooper’s uniforms, but it had seemed like the only way they were getting off the ship without guns held to their heads. At least his knee wasn’t damaged, Winry would kill him if her work was ruined over something so  _ stupid _ .

Still - it was  _ really _ itchy - Ed had no idea how anybody actually wore these for hours at a time, fifteen minutes was killing him. 

“We need to check the control room first,” Riza says, whispering to Edward. “I need to check if somebody is here.” 

Ed rolls his eyes. Of course. 

They eventually reached the control room, which told them that Alphonse Curtis was being held on the fifth floor in detention block A-twenty-three. 

“Wait,” Ed says, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’ve heard that name before.”

Riza smirks. “He’s the man in that message you found in Hayate. Oh god-” She tapped another button, scrolling through a list of names before stopping. “He’s been scheduled for- we have to go.” 

She put her helmet back on and started walking, shooing Hayate away when he started to follow. 

“Why do we have to go save someone? I thought we were here to turn the tractor beam off!” Ling shouts, before following Riza and Ed down the hallway. 

“The Colonel is turning the tractor beam off.” Riza answers, not looking back.

 

 

“I can’t see anything in this helmet,” Ed complains once they're onboard the elevator, fidgeting with the collar of the chest piece. 

“Yeah, well, I better be getting paid extra for this.” Ling says. 

Riza just shushes them, tapping her foot waiting for the elevator door to open. It took a few more minutes, but eventually they reach the detention level, doors opening on a darker room with a control centre and multiple halls branching off. 

“Can I help you?” An officer asks, standing from the console. 

“Uh,” Ed says, “Prisoner transfer. We’re here for the prince.” 

“I wasn’t informed about any-” The man is cut off by Riza shooting him. 

She shoots the other four guards sitting there, and shoots out the cameras as well, everything going up in smoke for a moment before the room is silent.

“Was that necessary?!” Ed asks, dropping his gun on the ground and stepping closer to Riza. 

“Go find out what cell he’s in, I’ll take care of these.” She says, moving to sit at the desk. 

Ed just rolls his eyes and takes off down the hallway, swearing under his breath. He didn’t like killing people. 

Alphonse was in the fifth cell back from the end of the hallway, and Ed clicks open the door after a few tries at the key panel, glad to find there wasn’t any kind of password or code to open the door. 

The man on the other side looks much different from the one in the hologram - his hair is matted and dirty, his clothes are covered in dirt and what looks like blood, and his face and arms are much thinner than what Ed had seen in the holovideo. He sits up from where he’s laying down, eyes tired and accepting. 

“Aren’t you a bit short for a stormtrooper?” Al asks, ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

“What did you say!?” Ed yells, taking his helmet off and throwing it at Alphonse. “I”m not short! Fuck you!” 

The helmet hits Al in the chest and the boy makes a pained noise, clutching his side and wheezing slightly. 

“Shit, sorry.” Ed walks in further, holding a hand out to show the young man he was unarmed. “I’m Edward Elric, I’m here to rescue you.” 

Alphonse flinches back, before sitting all the way up and breathing in a few times. 

“Well, you’re just on time I guess.” 

He takes Edward’s hand and lets Ed pull him to his feet, swaying slightly and thankful for the blond’s arm supporting his side. 

Riza appears in the doorway while they’re climbing the stairs, and Al practically bursts out of Ed’s arms to launch himself at her. 

“Hawkeye!” Al shouts, throwing his arms around her shoulders. 

Riza hugs him back, tucking her head against his shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re okay, Alphonse.” 

It takes a second for Riza to notice that Al’s crying against her shoulder, fingers digging into her back. 

“They’re gone, Riza. Everyone’s gone.” Al whispers, “They- they took Alderaan. Everyone’s gone.” 

“I know,” She rubs her hand up and down his back comfortingly. “I know, Al. I'm sorry.” 

He hadn’t let himself cry before - he’d felt too numb to cry. Now that he had someone, he couldn’t seem to stop. The relief of Riza being alive coupled with the guilt of failure makes his knees weak again.

"They're- This station, Riza. They're using it to create philosophers stones." 

"What-" Riza starts, pulling back with wide eyes. 

She's cut off by Ling, yelling down the hallway in their direction.

“I hate to interrupt-” Ling shouts, “But we’re gonna have company!” 

Ed runs past Riza and Al, trying not to break up the reunion but pissed off too much to care. “What did you do!” 

“I didn’t do anything! They asked what was going on so I told them we had a weapons malfunction!” Ling runs towards Ed and pushes him backwards again, back towards Riza. “They said they were sending reinforcements, it’s not my fault!” 

Ed screams, running a hand through his hair and ruining the braid it was in. He  _ really _ didn’t need this shit right now. 

The elevator opens a moment later, followed by blasterfire and more yelling from both sides. Ed barely avoids being hit in the leg, throwing himself down the hallway further past Ling and falling flat on his face. 

“Look what you got us into, I hope he’s worth it!” Ling yells at Riza, firing back towards the stormtroopers. 

Al scoffs, taking the blaster from Ling and kicking in the vent cover on the opposite side of the hallway. He shoots a few stormtroopers, avoiding the blaster bolts while him and Riza pick off the soldiers, before turning to Ling and giving him a look. “Get in the garbage chute, fly boy.” 

“What?” Ling shouts, “You get in the garbage chute!” 

Ed raises his eyebrows and laughs, ducking behind Riza and joining Al in glaring at Ling. “You’re unarmed, dumbass. You go first.” 

Ling runs a hand through his hair, before running across the hall and lifting himself into the vent. “Fuck all of you! I should just leave you here to die!” 

He’s gone before Ed can make a sarcastic comeback, but he follows the pilot soon after anyway, screaming the whole way down the chute and landing hard against a pile of trash bags. 

“Gross, what the fuck.” Ling says, standing up and trying to brush the muck off his pants.

“What did you expect?” Ed asks, leaning against the door. “Daisy’s and air fresheners?” 

“Fuck off,” 

Ed stands up and cringes at the garbage bog at his feet, reaching just below his knees and soaking into his boots. Great. This was exactly what he needed right now. He wished Mustang were here - even just to be unimpressed along with him. The guy might be a bastard, but he liked him more than Ling. 

Speaking of Ling, as if the man could hear Ed’s thoughts, screams and falls over right then, head going under the sludge water right as Al and Riza land. 

“Hey, Ling!” Ed shouts, “Cut it out, we need to get out of here.” 

No answer. 

“Ling?” 

Al grabs Ed’s shoulder and pulls himself up to his feet. “Where’s our pilot?”

“He fell, I don’t know.” Ed walks towards the door. “Ling!” 

The man surfaces after a minute, gasping for breath and cringing at the garbage. “Something grabbed me!” 

Ed rolled his eyes, but something wraps around his ankle a moment later and pulls him under too. He thinks for a second he’s going to die, trying to open his eyes against the filthy water but remembering it wouldn’t be a good idea. 

The thing that grabbed him wraps around his calf and drags him across the room before letting go, and Ed pulls himself up while his lungs scream. 

“What the fuck was that thing!” He yells, grabbing onto Ling to pull himself up and clinging to the taller man. 

“How should I know!” Ling shouts back, pushing Ed away from him and climbing on top of some of the garbage. “The garbage chute was such a wonderful idea, by the way. You’re buying me a new pair of pants when we get out of here.”

Al climbs up over one of the garbage piles and makes his way over to the door, pulling the latch hard and hearing it crack. “It won’t open, shit.” 

“Here, let me help.” Ed says, moving towards the door.

Ling just crosses his arms and pouts, leaning back against one of the walls. 

“I've got a bad feeling about this.” 

After a second the entire room starts to shake, before the walls click and start moving inwards on them.

“Ah, what the fuck!” Ling yells, falling back into the sludge and screaming. 

Al follows suite, while Ed jumps on the nearest garbage pile and starts climbing higher along with Riza.

“Grab something to brace it with!” Riza shouts over the noise, picking up some kind of pipe. “Edward, give me a hand with this!” 

The pipe starts bending under the pressure as soon as they get it up, and Ed falls back and curses, pulling out the comm from his pocket. 

“Hayate, turn off the garbage mashers on the detention level!” He shouts, “Hayate! Turn off all the garbage mashers on the detention level!” 

No reply. 

Ed screams and punches the wall, flinching back when it stings his knuckles. 

“What? He won’t respond?” Ling throws his arms out to the side. “Great, I’m going to die with you people. Couldn’t have imagined it any better, I’m so happy to be in this situation.” 

“ _ Shut the fuck up! _ ” Al yells, climbing higher on the garbage pile. 

After another few moments of screaming, Hayate beeps over the comm. 

_ ‘Radio was turned off’ _

“Oh, of course it was turned off! Now turn _ this _ thing off!” Ed screams into the comm, trying to push back at one of the walls. 

Ling starts screaming again when the walls make a horrible grinding sound, clinging onto Ed and bringing the shorter man to the ground. “I take it back, I don’t want to die like this!” 

“Ling, get off me!” 

“Lan Fan still owes me fifty credits over sabacc! I need to get out of here!” 

“Mr. Yao.” Riza starts, then yells over the screaming. “THE WALLS STOPPED MOVING!” 

Ling lets go of Ed suddenly, face moving from terror into shock. “What?” 

“Ugh,” Al moves off the garbage pile and walks towards the door, turning back his head to talk to Riza. “Did you have to bring him along?” 

The other man jumps down as well, rounding on Al and holding out a finger. “Listen up, your royal annoyance. I could’ve left you to die. I  _ should’ve _ left you to die.” 

“Ah, I’m charmed.” Al rolls his eyes. 

It takes a few minutes, but Ed and Riza get the door open, leading them all out into a garbage room and - thankfully - back into the rest of the ship. Ling glares at him the rest of the way to the loading dock, ignoring the other three in favour of watching out for stormtroopers. 

  
  


Eventually they get out to the loading dock - managing to avoid anybody else throughout the station - and Ed’s glad to see that Roy is there too, running as fast as he can towards the Millennium Falcon while deflecting blaster bolts backwards with his lightsaber. 

“Get on the ship, we have to go!” Mustang shouts, throwing a few barrels backwards towards the trailing stormtroopers and.... Hohenheim? 

Ed stops in his tracks the second he sees the man, hand going to the lightsaber at his belt. He unclicks the weapon and takes it in his hand, moving to run forwards - he might never get another chance for this, he has to kill Hohenheim now - before something hits him in the chest, knocking him backwards. 

Falling over knocks the wind out of him momentarily, and Ed coughs before turning to get on his feet. Someone must have thrown something at him… 

He moves to run forwards again but stops when he sees Roy standing between him and Hohenheim. 

“What are you doing!” Ed shouts, instinctively backing up when Hohenheim gets closer. 

The old man is holding a lightsaber, blistering red and sending shadows around him. The sight was terrifying, and Ed had to remind himself that this was the man who killed his father - he couldn’t be afraid of him if he was going to kill him. 

Roy throws a hand out to stop Ed running forwards again, at the same time throwing another barrel at Hohenheim. “Get to the ship, Edward. That’s an order.” 

“You aren’t the boss of me, you know what he did!” 

“You’ll die if you fight him now - get to the ship.” Roy turns his head back slightly, trying to look Ed in the eye. 

“You’ll die too! Look at you!” Ed pointed to Roy’s side, where he’d clearly been hit by Hohenheim’s saber. 

The wound wasn’t bleeding, but the fabric of his clothes were charred and melted against his side. 

Roy backs up further, getting closer to Edward. “This is my responsibility, Ed. He didn’t just kill your father.” 

Ed feels the anguish in his chest grow into guilt, remembering the other man in the photograph Roy had shown him back on Tatooine. The man with the glasses and the messy hair, holding both Roy and Ed’s father like they were his brothers. 

He’d forgotten until then - that Hohenheim had killed more than his father. The man had killed every single one of Roy's friends as well.

“Please,” Ed begs, “I can help you.” 

Roy turns his head back, meeting Edward’s eyes finally. The other man looked sad, face worn down with fatigue - like a man who had already accepted his death. 

“Take care of Riza for me,” He says, before turning and running towards Hohenheim. 

“ _ No! _ ” Ed screams, moving to run after him. 

He barely gets a foot forwards before his knee gives out, automail screeching as the joint freeze. A hand reaches out to grab him and he fights it, throwing his elbows out and trying to get back on his feet. 

“We have to leave!” Ling yells, taking Ed’s arm and wrapping it in his own. 

“I’m not leaving him to die!” Ed fights back, but it’s not enough to throw Ling off. He drags his heels as the taller man drags him back, eyes wide and staring at Roy, refusing to look away. 

He can feel that his calf is twisted backwards, artificial nerves screaming at him to right it, but Ed ignores it, choosing instead to fight the arms clinging to him as hard as he can.

Finally, they reach the ramp of the ship - Ed grabbing onto one of the lander legs while Ling and Riza both attempt to pull him on board. 

“Don’t be an idiot!” Ling shouts. “There’s no use in both of you dying!” 

Ed doesn’t say anything, just fights back extra hard. He refuses to leave Roy here like this, not without trying to help him. He’d already been abandoned by so many people in his life, he won’t let Roy abandon him like this either. 

He can’t die, Ed reasons, he’s the only person who can teach him how to use the force. Roy’s the only person who knew his father, the only one who can tell him about the man he had never met. He’s the one who got him off that stupid fucking planet he calls home.

Roy turns slightly, tossing his lightsaber into the air and catching is backwards. He slashed out at Hohenheim and caught the man against the arm, burning the fabric of his cloak and causing the man to yell and fall backwards. 

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Roy yells, moving forwards to stab Hohenheim in the chest. 

He doesn’t get that far - and in a split second Roy feels the heat against his side before Hohenheim’s saber pierces his skin, pulling at the muscle and sinew of his body as he falls. 

“ **_No!_ ** ” Ed screams, fighting hard against the hands holding him. 

He watches Roy falls, pale figure collapsing on the floor as the blade of his lightsaber fades away. Everything feels underwater as he gets pulled on board, fingernails digging into his shoulder while his grip on the landing pole goes slack. He knows people are yelling at him, but he can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

He’s shoved into the ship along with everybody else - blaster shot grazing his thigh - while the doors behind him close, Ling shouting at him to get into the gunners chair. 

“Lan Fan, get the hyperdrive working!” Ling shouts, pulling Ed along the hall to the ladders. 

Ed, in turn, is still numb. He climbs down the ladder rungs without thinking about it - ignoring Ling’s yelling and the screaming pain in his nerve endings - falling into the gunners chair and just staring straight ahead. 

He doesn’t know how to deal with it. Can’t figure out what emotion he should feel. Everything is just numb, cold and unfeeling underneath his skin. His leg is aching but he barely feels it anymore.

It doesn’t even feel like a victory when the ship jumps into hyperspace, the stars trailing by just make Ed feel empty.

  
  


+

  
  
  


Alphonse leans forward against the table and picks at the chipped metal, trying to lift a piece up with his chewed-down fingernail. He didn’t know what else to do - he didn’t know how to cope. 

How does someone cope with losing their entire home, he wonders. 

It’d been a while since Riza had left to talk to the pilots, leaving Al with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a now-forgotten mug of coffee. He wished she would come back, maybe tell him about her time on Tatooine after their ship had been taken. Or maybe one of the stories she used to tell him as a kid, the ones about his mother. 

The ones about his real mother. 

He barely notices Edward sit down across from him, lifting the dead weight of his automail limb up onto the bench beside him and burrowing further into the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’m uh-” Ed starts, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry for throwing my helmet at you, earlier.” 

Alphonse doesn’t look up from his spot on the table. “It’s fine.” 

It’s awkward for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything. Al wishes that the other blond would just leave, truthfully, not wanting to socialize. 

Ed speaks again after a minute. “Is Riza your mother?” 

It’s an innocent question, but Al can’t help but laugh. Nobody had ever asked him that before. 

“No, she’s my bodyguard. My mother is… she’s gone.” 

“So’s mine,” Ed says, leaning forwards against the table similar to Alphonse. “I’m sorry about your world.” 

Al looks up, watching the way Ed mimics his table-chip-picking action. Maybe this is how people coped with loss.  Slowly.

“I’m sorry about your teacher.” 

The silence returns, settling less awkwardly this time over the two boys. Al can feel Ed’s leg close to his under the table - the one made of flesh and bone, not the cold metal - and lets them bump together, appreciating the warmth. There was something about the other man that made him feel… calmer, somehow. Like the stress inside his body uncoils just looking at him. He’s glad that Ed hadn’t left, now. 

Al tries not to think about Alderaan, about his parents. He fills that train of thought by staring at Edward. Watching the way his eyes flick back and forth across the tabletop, the way his nails are chewed down just like his own, the messy, half-pulled-out braid hanging over his shoulder and catching against the chipped metal every time he moves. 

It’s helping, somehow, analyzing somebody he’d never met. 

“...hear me?” Ed says, and Alphonse hadn’t realized the other man started talking. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” 

“I asked why you’re staring at me.” 

Oh. 

“Sorry,” Al looks away, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I was just- your hair and your eyes are the same colour, I’ve never seen that before.” 

Ed’s face falls out of annoyance and back into calm, neutral. “Oh,” He said. “Yeah. Yours are too, y’know.”

“Oh, I guess so, yeah.” 

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t know why they’re like that, or that neither of his parents looked like him. It’d never been a mystery that he was adopted - Izumi couldn’t have children, she’d told him, so they’d adopted him. But that was none of Edward’s business, and he doesn’t think the man would even care. 

“Your leg’s automail,” Al says, “I didn't notice before.”

Ed grimaced. “Yeah, I'll need to get a new one when we reach Yavin. Mine’s broken.” 

A beat passes.

“Where are you from? You never told me.” Al asks, looking back across the table at Edward.

“Tatooine, garbage can of a planet.” 

“I’ve never been.” 

Ed laughs, more of a cynical laugh then anything else. “It’s not the most popular tourist destination.”

“What’s it like?” 

“It’s all sand, obviously, it’s a desert. Mostly it’s just farms, though.” Ed says. “What was Alderaan like?” 

The past tense hurts, but Al tries to not let it show on his face. Instead, he tries to think about what the mountains looked like the last time he was home. 

“It was beautiful - all mountains and lakes. It snowed where I lived sometimes, and my mom hated when that happened because it meant the gardeners had to shovel. Me and Martel used to climb up on the roofs after snowstorms so we could watch the stars in the evening. I fell off once and broke my arm, god my mother was so angry.” Al laughed a bit, remembering how Izumi cursed him out before setting the bone, saying the pain was enough of a punishment. 

He didn’t like that the memory was turning bittersweet. It used to be embarrassing, and now he just felt sad - nobody would ever understand how much he would give to have one more of those days. 

Ling interrupts them before Al can continue, throwing himself down on the seat next to Edward and throwing an arm around the blonde, ignoring the way Ed shifts away. “Not too bad of a rescue, huh?” 

Ed shifted under Ling’s arm, face going red and betraying him. 

“You understand they’re tracking us, right?” Al asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not this ship, buddy.” 

Ed snorts. “How would you even know if they were? I bet they stuck a tracking device on us the second we landed.” 

Al nods. “It would explain why they let us go so easily.” 

“Yeah, whatever. What’s on that droid that you needed so bad anyway?” 

Al crosses his arms against the table and leans his head against them, closing his eyes for a moment.

“The schematics for that space station. I just hope they can analyze it properly and find a weakness.” He sighs. “This isn’t over yet.” 

“It is for me,” Ling says, leaning back in the seat. “I did my part, took these idiots to Alderaan. I’m leaving the second we get to Yavin.” 

“Don’t you have any morals?” Ed asks, shifting back out of Ling’s arm.

“Morals? Questionable at best. A death wish? Absolutely not.” Ling laughs. “You can take on the Empire without me.” 

Ling stands up and turns to leave, pausing and turning back for a second to wink at Edward before walking down the hall. 

Ed blows his bangs out of his face and rolls his eyes, letting his head hit the back of the seat cushion. Whatever. They didn’t need him to help the rebels, not if he was only interested in money.

“I wonder if he cares about anything,” Al says, leaning forwards on the table again. “Or anybody.”

The two boys sit in silence again - Al mourning, Ed trying not to think about what Roy had said when they were on their way to Alderaan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> downside: this was late because i'm an awful editor   
> upside: chapter one of empire is almost done!!


	3. Hope

The minute Ed see’s bouncy blonde hair tied up, he bolts. He abandons Alphonse mid-sentence to run - best as he can - catching sight of her from across the hangar talking with a group of pilots. 

Her flight suits’ tied around her waist, thick gloves tucked into the knot and boots tied up tight. She doesn’t see him at first, but she looks up when she hears the stamping of his boots against the ground, and the look on her face is pure disbelief - which quickly turns into joy. 

“Winry!” Ed yells, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around, tucking his face into her neck. 

Winry hugs back, squeezing tight around his waist. “Oh my god, Ed.” 

He breathes her in, relief washing over him. Ed wasn’t sure he’d find her here - if she’d been killed, or if she was sent somewhere else. 

He pointedly ignores the spark of pain shooting up his nerves from his left leg, hiding the wince against her neck.

“How did you get here?” She asks, pulling back and looking him over. “And why are you limping- wait, why are you wearing a flight suit?”

“It’s a long story, Win.” Ed laughs, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head. “Command assigned me to Red Squad, so I’m flying today.”

He pointedly doesn’t add  _ ‘once you fix my leg.’ _

She smiles widely, giving him a fond look. “Glad to have you.”

She she leads him away from the ships, back into one of the ready-rooms that were unoccupied - down the hall and to the left, the one nobody used - before turning and giving him a worried look. 

“Tell me how you got here, Ed. Is granny-’

“Granny’s fine,” Ed rushes, “I just… got caught up in some stuff.” 

He sits down on one of the benches, resting his elbows on his knees. The fatigue was finally getting to him. He hadn’t slept since that morning he found Hawkeye in his garage, which must have been… at least three days ago. Shit.

“What kind of stuff? How’s your leg?”

Ed winced at the second question, remembering how his knee was turned halfway around. She could look at it later, though, it didn't matter right now.

“Well, I helped rescue Alphonse. And I found out some stuff about my dad.” 

Winry sits down beside him, eyeing the lightsaber on his belt skeptically. “Ed, he wasn’t a- was he?” 

“Yeah,” Ed stares at the floor. “I let one of his friends die yesterday.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.” 

He looks at her face, and tries his best not to cry. Not again.

“I left him alone with Hohenheim. I couldn’t-” He pauses, shutting his eyes. “He looked at me like he knew he was going to die.” 

Winry puts an arm around his shoulder, tucking herself against Ed like she used to when they were kids. He leans into the warmth and presses the palm of his hand against his left eye.

“Y’know, he gave me this picture of my dad before we left Tatooine. They all looked so happy back then.”

“Ed…” Winry starts, leaning back from the hug. 

“Fuck, Win. This is all so stupid.” 

She just gives him a look, the same one she had when she’d left Tatooine all those months ago. Ed ignores the way his eyes sting - he  _ won't _ cry again - focusing instead on her face. 

The bags under her eyes are worse than they were before, like someone had smeared grease along her eyeline. The sit of her shoulders was different, too - she didn't slouch, but she didn't sit straight up either - like she was trying to keep posture but just couldn't be bothered. 

It hurt a bit, to see her like this. He’d forgotten that the rebels weren't any better off than he was.

“Do they have you helping with automail out here too?” He asks, forcing the conversation into another direction. 

She stares at him for a moment before adjusting her facial features into a more neutral expression, smoothing out the faint lines along her forehead. “A little bit, when I have time. Garfiel and Neil do most of it.” 

He gives her a weak smile, anticipating her yelling. “Could you look at my knee? I think it's…” Ed paused, watching the way Winry’s eyes started to narrow. “...I think it’s broken.” 

He says the last part quietly, hoping that Winry won’t hear it.

She hits him upside the head, but she doesn't yell. Winry just glares at him, holding her hand against her chest and grinding her teeth. 

“How?” 

“It locked and threw me off balance. My calf was turned almost all the way around.” He looked down, “I just twisted it back around afterwards. If it hadn't broken I probably would've died…” Ed trailed off, absently picking at a loose thread on his flight suit. He didn't want to think about how he was ready to run into the middle of Roy’s fight, the feeling of terror when his leg gave out from under him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do to it,” 

Winry just stares at him, not moving, eyes widening with sympathy. He almost flinches back when she takes his arm, moving forwards to pull him into a hug. 

Ed leans into it, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threaten to spill out. It’s almost too much. 

“You idiot,” She whispered, holding onto him tightly. “You big idiot.”

They sit like that for a while, time passing around them while Ed just holds on, desperate for some kind of contact. A part of him just wants to go home. Tatooine was an awful place, but it was the only home he knew. It was hot and familiar, he knew what each day was going to bring when he was back there. Farming, doing repairs on equipment. He hated it, but he also hated this so much more. 

But he couldn't leave. Not yet. 

Not until Hoenheim was dead. 

Winry pulls back after a few more moments, cheeks slightly wet and face full of pain. “Let me look at your leg, you can’t fly if it isn’t working right.” 

Ed just nods, pulling the flight suit off his legs and sitting back down on the bench sideways, giving Winry acess to the joint. She pokes around it for a while, taking the shin plate off and looking at the wiring. 

“We’ll have to bring you to the medical office, you’ll need new wiring around the knee. And part of it looks like it was crushed up.” 

Winry raises an eyebrow, pulling an internal plate out. The piece of metal looked like it’d been hit by a hammer, completely crushed lengthwise in a way that couldn’t have been done from falling. Like a piece of paper that’d been crumpled up and thrown in the garbage.

“What could’ve done this?” 

Ed feels the weight in his chest get heavier. 

“It looks like someone did this with their hand,” She says, “Did something fall on your leg?” 

That’s why he’d fallen, why his leg gave out at the exact moment he was about to run after Roy. He’d been too distracted to notice at the time. 

“He did this,” Ed whispered to himself, taking the plate from Winry’s hands. “Of course he did.” 

He started to laugh, feeling it bubble up his throat against his will. Of course Mustang had fucked up his leg so he couldn’t run after him, of course. It wouldn’t be any other way. The action had been too much of a coincidence, his leg was working fine until then. 

The laughter turned into bitter tears, and Winry leaned forwards, concern on her face. 

“What are you talking about?” 

He looks up at her, feeling the wetness in his eyes leak down his cheeks. “Roy did it, he’s the one who broke my leg. So I couldn’t follow him to fight Hohenheim.” 

“I'm sure he didn't-” 

“No,” Ed cuts her off, wiping his face against his sleeve. “He did it. He wanted me to live.” 

  
  


+

  
  


Riza watches Al at the head of the room, discussing the Death Star plans with a young woman she recognizes as Ross, one of the strategists working with the flight plan. The general atmosphere in the room is excitement - at the plans, at the prince being alive, at the rebels new chance - but Riza just feels emotionless. 

She doesn’t think she’s ever truly learned how to mourn her friends. It’d been almost 20 years and Hughes death still eats at her, and now she’s the last one left out of everybody. Havoc was gone, Rebecca, Breda, Fuery - all the people she’d lived and fought with were gone. 

Maybe this was what growing up was, seeing everybody around you disappear. 

She didn’t want to think of Roy, but how could she not? When Edward was only a few metres away, golden hair shining against the fluorescent lights, lightsaber clipped to his belt as he sat in an orange flight suit, ready to launch an assault against the man who killed his father. 

Against his father. 

Riza tried not to think about Hohenheim, in the grand scheme of things. She tried to keep it centered around the Empire, not a single man, but she failed every time. The man had killed every single person Riza knew, had betrayed Hughes, had taken Roy. 

So she looked at Edward, and she didn’t see Hohenheim behind his eyes. Instead, Riza saw Roy underneath the tan skin and golden hair, the years apart they’d sworn to each other would be for the best - to keep the brothers safe - but had shattered Riza’s heart. Like harsh bleached sand, rough and brittle, that had worked its way under her skin from thousands of lightyears away. 

Riza liked to think that Roy felt the same way about her that she did him - but she knew, even if he was alive, he never would have told her. Jedi weren't allowed to have attachments. 

They weren't allowed to be in love.

She thought of the lightsaber she’d kept at the bottom of the trunk in her bedroom on Alderaan, and the promise she’d made to him eighteen years ago - that they’d rebuild the order, and make it better. She wanted to laugh at how naive they’d been back then, barely twenty years old while the world fell apart around them. 

The lightsaber was gone now, destroyed with the rest of Alderaan. With the rest of her world, the rest of her life. With Roy. 

_ ‘You'll always find me in the Force’  _

That felt like such a lie, now. She’d never found Hughes, never had one last conversation with Rebecca. But then again, Riza had never been force sensitive to begin with.

That lightsaber was never hers. 

Riza let out a breath when the meeting ended, watching Al shake hands, listening to Edward and his blonde friend talk excitedly about something. They were all so young, so full of hope and faith. 

She thinks about how the three of them remind her of her own friends, when they were that age. Fresh out of academy and going out into the world on their own, not knowing that they would be fighting a war that they wouldn’t win. 

With everything she had left, Riza prays that they won’t end up like her.

  
  


+

  
  


Ed let out a breath as he sat on the ladder of the X-Wing, counting down the time to launch. 

They knew the Death Star was on its way, knew it had tracked the millennium falcon all the way from the Alderaan system to Yavin IV. Even if the ship - and Ling - were gone, the Empire wasn't stupid enough to think it’d been a simple pitstop. 

No, the Empire were on their way. Ed could feel it. 

He could feel Hohenheim. The awful clustered feeling the man gave off. 

It felt like screaming. 

Ed barely noticed Alphonse walk up to him, almost didn't catch what the taller blond was saying as he leaned back against the ships hull, white vest hugging his shoulders in a different way than his jacket on the Death Star had.

“You’ll be off soon,” Al said, looking up at Ed on the ladder. “Good luck.” 

Ed smirked. “Won't need luck, Al. It's all skill.” 

“Your sure you don't want another droid for the flight?” Al asked, peering back towards the droid beeping and humming against the X-Wing’s hull.

“Nah,” Ed says, “Little guys been with me since the beginning. He’s kinda my good luck charm.” 

Al pauses, moving his gaze from Hayate back to Ed. He leans against the ladder, crossing his feet in front of himself. 

“How are you doing, truthfully?” He asks, and Ed feels a shiver go up his spine. 

Truthfully, he was doing awful. He hadn’t slept in three days, his leg - despite being repaired - still ached from the pressure of space travel, and he couldn’t get rid of the nauseous feeling in his stomach. 

He tells Al all of these things, because the younger man made him feel safe to say those things. To admit that he isn’t fine. Because Alphonse is the same way. 

“-But this is more important than how I feel.” He finishes, wrapping his arms around his stomach and leaning forwards against his knees. 

Alphonse smiles weakly, watching the other side of the hangar. He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and the silence is nice. Edward feels calmer, now. Like some of the weight had been lifted off his chest, even if it was just a small amount of it.

Ed feels his toes twitch and absently runs a hand along his right thigh, rubbing into the sore stump and trying to warm it up. Yavin was cold, in comparison to Tatooine, and Ed was feeling it in every inch of his body. 

Al shifts after another minute, crossing his legs the other way around and scratching at the back of his head. 

“You know, your the only one who calls me by my first name.” 

“Oh,” Ed says, “I'm sorry.” 

“No,” Al laughs, “Keep doing it. I'm tired of being ‘Mr. Curtis’ or ‘your highness’. Just Al is… nice.” 

Ed smiles and slaps a hand against Al’s shoulder, kicking his legs out from the ladder and letting them swing. 

“Well, Just Al, make sure you keep an eye on Red Two over there.” He points across the hangar to where Winry is setting up her fighter. “She's probably the best the rebellion’s ever had.”

Al hauls himself upright and gives Ed a grin, walking backwards and giving him a mock-salute. “Sure thing, Ed. Be careful.”

“I told you, it's all skill!” Ed shouts after him, watching Al turn and walk towards the command centre. 

He liked Alphonse, the fluffy hair and the golden smile. It was weird, though - every time he spoke to the man he got a pang in his stomach, like someone was pushing their fist up his throat. It might be sympathy pains, the force reaching out and latching onto others emotions, but it also feels familiar. 

Like something Ed’s been missing. 

He writes it off though, turning around from where he was watching Al walk away to the side, watching as Winry waves across the tarmac instead - blonde hair folded back into a braid similar to Ed’s own, flight suit clinging to her waist in a way that made his mind go blank for a moment. 

It was a completely different feeling than what Al gave him. Winry felt like warmth, burrowing into his chest and sitting beside his heart. 

He waves back after a second, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit when he realizes he's been staring. 

Thank god she was too far away to notice. 

Ed thinks about her while he climbs into his fighter, listening as the warning klaxons sound off around the hangar. The way she feels when she hugs him, her hair after she’s blown it dry - and he feels the stress of the situation fade away.

It's a bit like stardust exploding in his heart, the way she makes him feel. 

And he realizes - regretfully - that it's the exact feeling he got when Ling sat down beside him on the falcon, pressing against his side on the bench. 

Fuck. 

Ed has more important things to think about than this. He isn't going to relate feelings he might have for Winry to feelings he might have for Ling. 

But then again… 

No, he won't think about it. 

Ling left them to be on his own, didn’t want anything to do with any of them - much less anything to do with Edward. His mind has to be focused on one thing right now. Nothing else. 

As he pushes the gearstick forwards and starts to roll into formation, Ed’s mind blanks out. 

He doesn't think about Ling - how the man had basically abandoned them. He thinks about the mission instead. Trench runs and one-in-a-million shots. 

Not the way Ling looks when he’s walking away. 

_ “Red Leader - ready for launch.”  _

A voice interrupts his train of thought, followed by the rest of the squad doing callbacks. 

_ “Red Two, ready for launch.” _ Winry’s voice crackles in, sounding distant over the comm.

_ Red Three. _

_ Red Four. _

“Red Five, ready for launch.” Ed says, pressing forwards on his steering handle and feeling the wind resistance as his ship leaves the hangar. 

Two squadrons were all they were bringing in, after they’d lost blue squad barely a week ago on Scarif. Red and Gold squad were lined along the tarmac, one after the other for a twenty-ship convoy headed for the sky above Yavin. 

Ed’s heart started fluttering when he pressed forwards and started his ascent, speeding forwards before lifting off the ground. Taking off had always been his favourite part of flying - but he couldn't help but feel empty. 

He was here for revenge, before anything else. 

He was here to kill people.

As the ground got further and further away, Ed felt himself go through the motions of flight. Checking his altitude, checking all his rudders and flaps, testing the airlock before he got too high. 

Everything checked out, Hayate beeping back the readings as the computer displays them. 

“Thanks buddy,” Ed says, “Keep me sane up here, alright?” 

Hayate beeps back happily, which makes Ed smile. He likes the little droid, likes the big personality and the way that he acts more like a dog than a droid. 

_ “Gold leader, checking in.”  _

_ “Ed…”  _

_ “Red leader, checking in.”  _

_ “Edward,”  _

The squads count off, getting into position when they break the atmosphere. Ed scrunched up his nose when he heard the voice, more distant than the radio sounded. 

“Hello?” He says, holding the mute button on his radio. 

_ “Ed, keep your faith in the force.”  _

It sounded familiar, but Ed couldn't place the voice. Maybe he was going insane already, barely out of the atmosphere. 

“Hayate, did you hear that?”

The droid beeps negative, twirling around and making a few adjustments to the oxygen supply. 

After they break the horizon Ed can see it, the same space station he’d been on less than a day before. It seemed… smaller now, somehow. Like it's enormity was partly because of the shock. 

Ed closed his eyes and breathed, listening to the radio while he got into formation.

_ “Lock S-Foils into attack position.”  _ Winry’s voice says, echoing through the radio. 

The two squads bear to the right, going into half-rolls as a few smaller attack ships start firing on them. 

_ “Break cruising formation.”  _

Ed swerves up, going into a roll and shooting at one of the enemy fighters. He liked how the X-Wing handled, it was easier to fly than a T-16 and much more balanced. 

“Hey Win, bogie on your left.” He says, flipping over and firing. 

The Tie Fighter explodes, and Ed hollers into the radio, excited for the hit. 

“Thanks, Red Five.” 

Ed laughs at the codename. He knew it was impractical to remember everybody's names, but he’s prefer to go without them. It felt impersonal. 

The closer he got to the Death Star, the less excitement he felt. 

_ “Red leader, this is base. Start your first attempt as soon as you're in range.”  _

  
  


+

  
  


Al leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms in front of himself. The words  _ ‘Fifteen minutes until firing range’ _ shone on the computer screen in front of him, letters blurring against his vision as he lets his eyes unfocus. 

He tried to keep his mind blank, in the way Edward had told him about a few hours beforehand. The force wasn't something he was particularly versed in, besides the fairytales Riza had told him growing up, but he put all of his faith into it at that moment. 

There wasn't much else to put his faith into, at this point. 

Al feels a hand rest on his shoulder and turns, trying not to flinch at the sudden contact. He was still jumpy from… before - and didn't foresee the tension going away for a while. 

“Sir.” Ross says, moving to stand beside Al and crossing her arms similarly to his. 

“What is it, lieutenant?” 

“I just-” She starts, clenching her jaw. “Is it true about the philosophers stones?” 

“As far as we know, yes.”Al sighs. He doesn't want to talk about this now - doesn’t want to think about his mother being used to make one of those  _ awful _ things. “That space station is capable of destroying entire planets, it wouldn't be a stretch to believe that it is using those lives to create the stones.” 

Ross leans back and grips the counter tightly, knuckles going white. 

She’s silent for a few moments, the only sound audible is the warning klaxons that have been sounding for the past fifteen minutes. Al wishes they would turn the stupid things off - they drove into his eardrums and throbbed in time with his developing migraine. 

“Are you scared, sir?” Ross asks, staring straight ahead at the countdown in front of them. 

He could see her shoulders shaking, the way her hands were trembling against where they gripped the counter. The brave face of somebody who knows they’re going to die. Alphonse knows that face - has worn it himself more often than not in the past few days. 

“Yes,” He says, turning his head to face her. “But I have faith in Mr. Elric. And in the force.” 

Her shoulders don’t stop shaking, and neither do her hands. Al watches her out of the corner of his eye and can see the reflection of tears on her face. 

Right now, all they could do was hope.

  
  


+

  
  


“Watch out!” Ed pulls up on the controls, flipping himself over to avoid a Tie. “Pay attention, Gold Six.” 

“Sorry!” the gold squadron pilot said, swerving to the left and out of the trench.

It was too narrow for Ed’s liking - but he was focused. Not too much drift, pay attention to the differentials, it wasn't  _ that _ difficult to keep in line. 

Trench running wasn't much different to canyon hopping back on Tatooine, same narrow walls and fear of death. The only difference now was the objective. Barely a metre across, a vent shaft that they could only hope of hitting with blind luck.

Winry had already missed once, hitting too wide on the mark. She’d sworn up a storm and fell back, taking damage to her right wing as a Tie grazed her - and Ed had felt his heart stop for that moment, sure he was about to see her fighter crash into the surface of the station and tear itself apart.

He wouldn't miss. He knew he wouldn't miss, as he lined up to go into the trench again. 

“Red Five, taking another go,” 

_ “Be careful, Ed. You've got two tailing you.” _ Winry says, radio crackling as she got further and further away.

Ed pulls to the side, spotting the Ties behind him. He shakes them off easy enough, running back into the trench and spinning once to desynchronise the tracking guns. 

The closer he got to the vent, Ed felt his stomach clench up. This was it. He had to get this one right. He pulls his scope down, switching back and forth between it and the plexiglass. 

_ “Ed,”  _

Ed whips his head to this side, hitting his face against the scope. 

“Fuck, who said that?”

_ “Use the force, Ed. Let go.”  _

He thinks for a second, looking back through the scope.

“...Mustang?” 

_ “Trust me.”  _

Ed bites the inside of his lip, before grabbing the scope and pushing is backwards, disabling it. 

_ “What's wrong, Ed? Why'd you disable your targeting scope?” _

“Nothing, Win. Just got an idea.” 

He focuses, trying to remember what Roy had told him. A breath in, a breath out, feel the energy in your chest, focus on it and use it. 

_ “Ed, behind you!” _

_ Bang! _

“Fuck!” Ed yells, ship swerving to the left without him controlling it. 

He hasn't noticed the ship trailing behind him, dark presence overwhelming now that he knows it's there. 

It's Hohenheim, he's sure of it. 

“I’m fine!” He yells over the radio. “Just a scratch. Staying on target.” 

He pushes the accelerator down, gaining speed down the trench and losing the ship. It's the one that hit Winry, he's sure of it. 

_ Bang! _

Again, another hit. This time it hits Hayate. 

“No, shit.” Ed grits his teeth, trying to focus on the ship in front of him. The droid whirs a few times before going dead, silence once again filling the cockpit.

All he needed to do was hit one exhaust port. That was easy enough. He didn't need Hayate for that, just like he didn't need the targeting computer. Ed let himself fall back into focus, keeping the Tie fighters in the back of his mind. 

One breath in, another out. 

Another bang, but this time it isn't on his ship. 

“ _ I thought you’d want some help! _ ” 

Ed raises his eyebrows, looking out the window to see none other than the millennium falcon swooping in and hitting Hohenheim's ship. His chest tightens in relief and Ed feels like he could cry, at that moment. 

“You got here just in time, buddy.” Ed says, smile growing on his face.

He brings his focus back to the trench, watching the station fly by underneath him, counting down the seconds until he finally hits the fire button - and he knows the shot hits it's target.

The radio erupts into yelling, and Ed let's himself breathe.

  
  


+

  
  


“I knew you didn't just care about money!” Al yells, jumping on Ling’s back as the two of them run up to Edward’s fighter. 

Ed jumped down from the ladder, landing at Ling’s feet and throwing his arms around the man's shoulder. His stomach felt warm - the way it had back before he’d launched, thinking about Winry.

“I knew you'd come back!” He shouts, feeling Ling pull his face closer and not thinking before the man pressed their lips together for a kiss.

It's quick - barely a press of lips

He immediately pales, pulling back with a shocked look. Ling doesn't seem to notice, though, just reaching over and pulling Al in for another hug. 

“Knew you guys would need some help.” Ling grinned.

“Oh no,” Al says, turning around to face the X-Wing’s rear. 

A few marshalls were pulling Hayate out of the ship, the droid’s top half blackened and scorched to bits. 

“Shit, Hayate,” Ed kneels down when they place the droid on the floor, moving to scrub at the scoring. 

The droid beeps back an apology, and Ed laughs lightly. “Don’t say sorry, buddy. You did more than enough.” 

He stays on the floor with the droid a moment, scrubbing at the scorch marks until one of the marshalls takes him away, promising to take good care of Hayate.

Ed stands back up and pulls Al back in for another hug, burying his face in the taller boy’s neck and sighing, chest tight with pride and relief. They’d done it - for now, things were over. The threat was gone. They still had their objectives, but they giant Death Star was no longer an issue. 

The entire base emitted a singular feeling of joy, and it warmed Ed’s soul. He felt it thrumming just under his skin, and for a moment he swears he can feel Mustang’s gaze on him. The man would be proud of him - he knows that he would be. 

He spots Winry running over and moves to pull her back towards the group, holding onto her and breathing in. Winry smells like sweat and oil, and Ed doesn’t think he could get enough of it. He doesn’t think about Ling - what had just happened - because his brain is too overloaded with everything else to even remember it after a few minutes. 

So he holds onto Winry and doesn’t let go, can feel his neck getting damp with tears - this time, from joy - and tries to hold onto every emotion he can. The singular ones he can recognise as his friends, the collect ones from the base. Any emotion whatsoever. And he revels in it.

Ed pulls back from Winry after a minute, pulling Al and Ling into the hug and wrapping his arms around all of them. His mind is blank as they hold onto each other, excited yelling and cheering a buzz in the background - and there’s only one thought in his head. 

_ ‘This is the best day of my life’ _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've come to the end of this fic! I'm so thankful for all the comments and kudos on this, I can't even put into words how much you guys all mean to me, it's insane.  
> I plan on releasing the first chapter of Empire in a few weeks time, so watch out for that! This AU is just too much fun to write, and trying not to spoil anything - the dynamic of the force and alchemy are going to be explored MUCH more in the next fic, and I'm so excited to pan it all out for you guys!!   
> Empire's updates may be slightly slower than this one had been, since I've started my student teaching job this past week and it's exhausting me beyond belief, but I'll try to stay on schedule!   
> Once again, thank you all for reading and leaving comment and kudos, you guys keep me going!!!


End file.
